Alice Syndrome

Biting my lips is a bad habit of mine. I do it a lot when I'm nervous or embarrassed. Today, Angelica Duchess decided she wanted to comment on every single part of my body--down to the tips of my hair. "You have split ends, you know." she stated with her thick, British accent. She was a transfer student from London and became instantly popular the moment she stepped into Harmony High School. She had dated almost all the guys on the football team and was head cheerleader. She was your typical high school slut.
I continued to nibble on my lower lip as she walked around me. I'll admit. I wasn't the 'nicest' thing to look at. Well, compared to Angelica. I was a wavy blonde haired blue eyed, Irish skinned a-cup senior when she was a dark haired, bright eyed, tan, C-cup knock-out.
Perhaps now you see where I'm coming from.
"Thanks for telling me," I announced, attempting to step behind her to avoid any more 'compliments'.
"You really should come to my place. I'll have you looking perfect." she giggled, clapping her hands together. "You could be really pretty if you tried a little harder."
I shook my head, shrugging slightly before murmuring, "No thanks. I like how I look."
She clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth before shaking her head. "It's a shame, really. A lot of girls 'jump' at the opportunity to have my help. I guess you really are a lost cause."
I fought back the burning sensation of tears behind my eyes as I stammered, "I-I've really got to get to class,"
And before she could argue any longer, I was gone. I quickly wiped the tears forming on my eyelids and stepped into my next class. "This is going to be a long day." I thought to myself as I took my seat.